I Just Died in Your Arms
by SonnyShotz
Summary: At the age of 23, José Burromuerto woke up on a plane to find his front teeth knocked out and his nose broken. He had no idea where the plane was heading nor any recollection of the past two weeks. An alcoholic and a crack addict , he checked into a treatment facility shortly after landing. There he was told he could either stop using or die before he reached age 24.


**A/N: A story focused on José Burromuerto. Rating will later change to M.**

**Main Characters; José. **

**Supporting Characters; Burromuerto parents, Courtney, Heather, Justin, and Topher. (Topher is a up coming character for season six, if you didn't know.)**

** Recurring Characters; Alejandro,Chris, Chef, Blaineley, and Josh. **

**WARNING; Deals with, depression, suicidal thoughts, drugs use, anger management, and alcoholism**

* * *

I wake up to the drone of an airplane engine and the feeling of something warm dripping down my chin. I lift my hand to feel my face. My front four teeth are gone, I have a hole in my check, and my nose is broken and my eyes are swollen early shut. I open them and I look around and I'm in the back of a plane and no one's near me. I look at my clothes, they're covered in spit, snot, urine, vomit, and blood. I reach for the call button and I push it. I waited and thirty seconds later an attendant arrives.

"How can I help you?"

"Where am I going?"

"You don't know?"

"No."

"You're going to Chicago, Sir."

"How did I get here?"

"A doctor and two men brought you on."

"They say anything?"

"They talked to the Captain, Sir. We were told to let you sleep."

"How long till we land?"

"About twenty minutes."

"Thank you."

Although I never looked up, I know she smiles and feels sorry for me. She shouldn't.

A short while later we touch down. I look to see if I have anything with me, but there's nothing. No ticket, no clothes, no wallet. I sit and I wait to try and figure what happened. Nothing comes.

Once the rest of the passengers are gone I stand and start to make my way to the door. After about five steps I sit back down. Walking is out of the question. I see my attendant friend and I raise my hand.

"Are you okay?"

"No."

"What's wrong?"

"I can't really walk."

"If you can make it to the door I can get you a chair."

"How far is the door?"

"Not far."

I stand. I wobble. I sit back down. I stare at the floor and I take a deep breathe.

"You'll be alright."

I look up and she's smiling.

"Here."

She holds out her hand and I take it. I stand and I lean against her and she helps me down the aisle. We get to the door.

"I'll be right back."

I let go of her hand and I sit down on the steel bridge of the jetway that connects to the plane and gate.

"I'm not going anywhere."

She laughs and I watch her walk away and I close my eyes. My head hurts, my mouth hurts, my eyes hurt, my hands hurt, things without names hurt.

I rub my stomach. I can feel it coming. Fast and strong and burning. No way to stop it, I just close my eyes and let it ride. It comes and I recoil from the stench and pain. There's nothing I can do.

Oh my god.

I open my eyes.

I'm all right.

Let me find a doctor.

Just get me out of here.

"Can you stand?"

"Yeah, I can."

I stand and brush myself off and I wipe my hands on the floor and I sit in the wheelchair she brought me. She goes around to the back and starts pushing.

"Is someone here for you?"

"I hope so."

"You don't know?"

"No."

"What if no one's there?"

"It's happened before, I'll find my way."

We come off the jetway and into the gate. Before I have a chance to look around, my Mother and Father are standing in front of me.

Oh Jesus.

"Please, mom."

"Oh my god, what happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Mom."

"Jesus Christ. What in Hell happened?"

She leans over and tries to give me a hug. I push her away.

"Let's just get out of here."

My dad goes around to the back of the chair. I look for the attendant, but she's gone. Bless her.

"You okay, José?"

I stare straight ahead.

"No, Dad, I'm not okay."

He starts to push the chair.

"Do you have any bags?"

My mother continues to cry.

"No."

People are staring.

"You need anything?"

"I need to get out of here, Dad. Just get me the fuck out of here."

They wheel me to their car. I climb in the backseat and I take off my shirt and I lie down. My dad starts driving, my mom keeps crying, I fall asleep.

* * *

About four hours later I wake up. My head is clear, but everything else hurts. I sit forward and I look out the window. We've pulled into a gas station somewhere in Wisconsin. There is no snow on the ground, but I can feel the cold. My Dad opens the driver's door, he sits down and closes the door.

I shiver.

"You're awake."

"Yeah."

"How do you feel?"

"Shitty."

"Your Mom's inside cleaning up and getting supplies. You need anything?

"A bottle of water, a couple bottles of wine, and a pack of cigarettes."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah."

"This is bad, José."

"I need it."

"You can't wait?"

"No."

"This will upset your, Mother."

"I don't care. I need it."

He opens the door and goes into the gas station. I lie back down and I stare at the ceiling. I can feel my heart quickening, I hold out my hand and try to keep it straight. I hope they hurry.

Twenty minutes later the bottles are gone. I sit up straight and I light a cigarette. My Mom turns around.

"Better?"

"If you want to put it that way."

"We're going up to the cabin."

"I figured."

"We're going to decide what to do when we get there."

"All right."

"What do you think?"

"I don't want to think right now."

"You're going to have to soon."

"Then I'll wait till soon."

We head north to the cabin. Along the way I learn that my parents, who live in Mexico, have been in the states for the last two weeks on a business trip. At four a.m. They received a call from a friend of mine who was with me at a hospital and had tracked them down in a hotel in Michigan. He told them that I had fallen face first down a fire escape and he thought they should find me some help. He knew I was drunk, and it was bad. They had driven to Chicago that night.

"What was it?"

"What was what?"

"What were you taking?"

"I'm not sure."

"How can you not be sure?"

"I don't remember."

"What do you remember?"

"Bits and pieces."

"Like what?"

"I don't remember."

We drive on and after a few hard silent minutes we arrive. We get out of the car and we go to the house and I take a shower because I need I get out, there are some fresh clothes sitting on my bed. I put them on and I go to my parents' bedroom. They are drinking coffee and talking, but when I come in they stop.

"Hi."

Mom start crying again and she looks away. Dad looks at me.

"Feeling better?"

"No."

"You should get some sleep."

"I'm going to."

"Good."

I look at Mom. She can't look back.

I sigh.

"I just."

I look away.

"I just, you know."

I look away. I can't look at them.

"I just wanted to say thanks, for picking me up."

Dad smiles. He takes my Mother by the hand and they come over to give me a hug. I don't like when they touch me, so I pull away.

"Good night."

"Good night, José. We love you."

I turn and I leave their room. I close the door and I go to the kitchen. I look through the cabinets I find an unopened half gallon bottle of whiskey. The first sip brings my stomach back up, but after that it's all alright. I go to my room and I drink and smoke some cigarettes and I think about _her_. I drink and I smoke and think about _her_, until at a certain point blackness comes and my memory fails me.


End file.
